fat is creeping around my thighs. rip it off, rip it off.

For Morgan's Personal Enjoyment/Sorry Everybody Else

I just get caught up

I have so much anxiety. weird weird. I need more of people I like. I'm afraid to get close to people. I have warm affectionate relationships with walls. I want someone to listen to me. I feel really unheard. and my mind goes in weird places and I think that everyone is barely tolerating me. This isn't true but I'm getting so paranoid. I want to get inspired by stuff that speaks to my heart. I want to feel fulfilled when by myself. I want to do the things I say I will do. I want to make a five year plan and I want a lover. I want a good listener that doesn't think I'm a pain in the ass. I wish I was better at communicating. I would like to learn to be less of a control freak. I wish people would sometimes realize that their jokes hurt me. I don't always want to know what other people think of me. I want to feel invited wherever I go. I want to feel more deserving of love. I don't know. I have jealousy that is uncontrollable and has nothing to do with reality. I want to at least be honest. I feel really conservative compared to my friends. I get mad. I feel like I should learn to be more free. then I get mad at my parents for being so old fashioned. and then I get upset that that could upset me so much, and that I don't really know my own ideals. I'm turning the anger in on myself. It really scared me the observations that have been made about me recently. lots of inner self revelations. lots of really, painful things were pointed out that I always thought I was better at concealing than that. I guess it's supposed to make me ask why I conceal them in the first place. I read "Spilling your guts is as attractive as it sounds" in a book the other day, but I just, I think theres something really refreshing about someone explaining their thought processes and neuroses. I don't want to pretend that I'm not fragile and easily wounded, and I would like not to pretend that I have no insecurities. I have many many, I catch myself comparing myself to everyone. I would like to be more proud of myself. I wish I was not as moody and emotional as I really am, and I wish I didn't have so many deep-rooted judgments that I halfheartedly believe because of the way I was raised. Sometimes I feel like I communicate these weird alien inherited feelings through my facial expressions before I have time to process them and send them to the garbage can for lame thoughts that I don't believe in. My ideal self would not assume anything or get nervous, or hide an opinion. Is it me or is it everybody fucking else?

Dream we had

took a long vacation. this was alien. white shutters swang like wings. flowers came up through the ground like erections in the night. the porch was glowing. the dish towels looked like shit. every dream told you a story about your brain. what kind of, what kind of person are you? It's like you see yourself in a photo and the eye tells you about yourself. and your mom tells you about yourself. and your doctor tells you there is a little hole in your heart, and cats sort of hiss at you in a silent way saying, "asshole". but the summer haunted you. the night was a deep tunnel. you found yourself deep into it without any memory of travelling. this is no surprise. you find yourself in the strangest of places, screened in southern parlors with the lace swathing the windows, cold old nights, outside, backbending over a car, surprised to find a hand shoving itself in the void. the night was a trail, a void, a trick, a secret shining cave. you never knew how beautiful it could be until you were in it, forgetting your way back out. you were always afraid of losing it. everything that happens in the night feels as though it has happened a thousand times before. in dreams, in stories. every distraction could cut your life off and start your birth in a new world. serious nighttime. to howl, to cry, to breed. to steal the world with a nighttime screech.